Chapter 297: The Theory of Imprints
After a wait, the inner hall doors opened, and Rowena, the palace maid, emerged. The sky had brightened; the rising sun painted the eastern clouds in hues of orange. Birds chirped, filling the air with vitality.
Rowena smiled gently and curtsied. “The Queen Mother requests the presence of the Queen and the concubines.”
Since the Queen and concubines were to be received first, Isolde and the other noblewomen waited outside. Aveline could have entered immediately, but chose to remain with Isolde.
The Queen led the concubines inside. Isolde expected a half-hour wait, but to her surprise, they emerged shortly after—sooner than it takes half an incense stick to burn.
Rowena reappeared. “The Queen Mother requests the presence of the ladies and young misses.”
Isolde quickly adjusted her attire and followed the procession. However, Rowena stopped her on the stone steps. “Princess Langley, please wait. You may enter after the other ladies have paid their respects.”
Isolde was taken aback. Alice’s smug gaze met hers. According to their status, they were to enter in groups. Did Alice think Isolde could enter with everyone else? The Queen Mother was clearly aware of Isolde's lowly status. Though granted the title of princess, it was merely a formality, like her father’s title as Duke of Blackmoor.
Isolde had no choice but to stand aside. Aveline wanted to stay, but Rowena said, “Princess Aveline, please go in first. Rosemary, Marchioness of Greystone, wishes to speak with you.”
Aveline assured Isolde, “Don’t worry, I won’t leave too quickly. I’ll wait for you inside.”
“Yes,” Isolde replied softly. In truth, this was preferable. A private audience would make it easier to speak her mind.
Esme, worried about Isolde’s anxiety, offered comfort, but Isolde, preoccupied, remained silent. The noblewomen stayed slightly longer than the Queen and concubines. When they emerged, they had left their gifts behind.
Caroline, supporting Alice, glanced haughtily at Isolde and sneered, “What does she think she is, comparing herself to us? She wanted to enter with us, but she wasn’t even allowed.” They walked away.
Alice and Caroline, hearing this, turned back, eyes wide with shock. The private chambers? And Isolde was to go alone?
Under their envious and resentful gazes, Isolde followed Rowena.
The private chambers were accessible from the main hall, but also through a corridor detour. Since the main hall was still occupied, Rowena led Isolde around the outside. Esme and Rowena caught up, exchanging greetings and discussing recent events. Isolde remained silent, listening to their hushed conversation.
Reaching the entrance to the private chambers, Rowena opened the door. “Go in. The Queen Mother is waiting for you.”
Isolde curtsied. Esme wanted to follow, but Rowena stopped her. “Come on, it’s been a while since we last talked. Let’s catch up outside.”
“But…” Esme glanced worriedly at Isolde.
Rowena smiled. “Don’t worry. Do you really think the Queen Mother would give her a hard time?”
Esme chuckled. “Of course not.”
“Let’s go. Don’t keep Isolde waiting. Look how nervous you are, making her nervous too.”
Isolde was indeed nervous. Standing before the beaded curtain, she took a deep breath. Just as Rowena and Esme left, she took another deep breath, trying to calm herself. As she was about to lift the curtain, a dignified voice called from inside. “What are you still standing there for? Come in!”
Isolde’s heart skipped a beat, her breathing erratic. She hastily lifted the curtain, forgetting all of Esme’s etiquette lessons. She strode in with a soldier’s confidence, quickly reaching the center of the room.
She found herself standing before the Queen Mother, who sat cross-legged on a couch, a low table before her holding two steaming cups of coffee.
“Come here,” the Queen Mother said. She wore a yellow robe embroidered with flying phoenixes; her face was slightly pale, but her eyes were sharp and piercing.
Isolde, flustered and anxious about her questions, took a step forward but forgot to lift her skirt. She tripped and fell headfirst, her forehead hitting the Queen Mother’s shoe.
For a moment, Isolde’s mind went blank. She looked up and met the Queen Mother’s expressionless face and sharp eyes, which seemed to hold a hint of helplessness.
“I… Your servant, Isolde Langley, pays her respects to the Queen Mother!” Isolde reacted quickly, turning her fall into a formal bow.
“Marshal, if you were this flustered on the battlefield, what would become of you?” The Queen Mother addressed her directly as “Marshal.”
“I won’t!” Isolde, sensing the Queen Mother wasn’t angry, grew bolder.
“Get up and sit over there,” the Queen Mother pointed to the other side of the low table.
“I wouldn’t dare!” The spot indicated was on the other side of the couch, implying equality with the Queen Mother.
“Sit!” The Queen Mother’s voice hardened.
Isolde, startled, quickly scrambled over and sat down. “Yes!”
The Queen Mother pointed to the cup beside her. “Drink. You must not have had anything warm since entering the palace this morning.”
Isolde smiled sheepishly. “Yes. Esme said we might have to wait a long time, and drinking water might be inconvenient.”
She picked up the coffee and gulped it down. She was thirsty, and the dry bread she had eaten that morning still felt stuck in her throat.
The Queen Mother didn’t seem to mind Isolde’s unrefined manner. She looked at Isolde. “Oliver told me you wanted to see me.”
“Yes,” Isolde set down the teacup, trying to figure out how to broach the subject.
However, the Queen Mother spoke first. “I know what you want to ask. But there’s no need to ask too much. Just walk the path before you, do your work, and live well.”
“Yes,” Isolde hesitated. She wanted to ask about the child. “Then… does Your Majesty know what the General said? I don’t ask for the reason, only about the child…”
“You are a person of merit. What is yours will come to you. That child has a connection with you, though the depth of it is unknown. If it comes, it will be him. If not, he will not suffer.”
Isolde’s nose tingled with emotion. “I just pity him for the suffering he endured.”
The Queen Mother smiled, took Isolde’s cup, and placed it over the imprint left by the previous cup. “Do you see? Can you still find the imprint of the previous cup?”
Isolde shook her head, dumbfounded. “No.”
“Exactly. No matter how deep the imprint is, if something replaces it, it can no longer be found. It just so happens to cover it up.”
Isolde seemed to understand but also felt that such matters were beyond her comprehension. So, she just stared blankly at the Queen Mother.
“However, the imprint is still there,” the Queen Mother removed the cup, revealing the imprint beneath. She looked at Isolde. “So, the suffering you endured, the mistakes some people made—they all leave imprints. Everyone who experiences such events will have imprints. You have them, Oliver has them, and they have them too.”
“Then how do we replace them? What’s the use of replacing them?” Isolde didn’t understand.
“Because these imprints don’t just concern you. They concern the nation and the world. What you want the world to see is this intact cup…” She moved her cup to cover the imprint again. “As for that imprint, only those who experienced it need to know.”